"Eliza, I'm going to Germany for liposuction and I won't be coming back."

Eliza frowned: "Then... what about Liam ? And what about Lila ? I heard that surgery is very risky. Are you really sure?"

Clara turned her head, her gaze passing through the café's floor-to-ceiling windows to fall on her own reflection in the window .

Even a loose sweatshirt couldn't hide her protruding belly and thick arms; her waistline had long since disappeared into her bulky silhouette.

She raised her hand to stroke the blurry reflection on the glass, and gave a self-deprecating smile: "I'm divorced . I 've lived these past seven years without ever truly being myself. I want to start over and live a different life."

Eliza opened her mouth, but in the end, it only turned into a sigh.

Clara seven years ago , the most dazzling ballet fairy on the stage. On the day she won the international gold medal, Liam knelt on one knee with 99 white roses in his hands, and the purple diamond ring shone brightly under the spotlight. He vowed to protect her for the rest of his life.

But who could have imagined that in just seven years, the moonlight of yesteryear would have fallen into dust and become something even it despised?

Clara returned home, there was a pair of unfamiliar stiletto sandals in the entryway. The delicate, off-white heels clashed with the uniform flat shoes in her shoe cabinet.

She tiptoed upstairs. The door to the master bedroom was ajar, and an embarrassing sound leaked out from a narrow crack.

Liam stood by the window with his back to the door, his expensive custom-made suit casually tossed on the carpet, his shirt mostly unbuttoned, revealing his well-defined back.

Heavy, panting breaths mixed with suppressed groans came through the phone screen, his voice, thick with lust, pierced Clara 's ears with each word: "This waist... if only I could pinch it and do it again..."

Clara turned away expressionlessly, her fingertips icy cold.

Since giving birth to Lila three years ago , she has suffered from hormonal imbalance syndrome, gaining weight from 90 pounds to 150 pounds in two months. She can no longer wear the ballet dresses she used to wear with ease, and even marital relations have become a luxury. Liam would rather relieve himself than touch her at all, as if her fat was some kind of monster.

The sound of footsteps coming downstairs startled the people in the living room. Lila , carrying a strawberry cake, ran to the top of the stairs. The moment she saw Clara , she didn't hesitate to throw the cake at her. Cream and strawberry jam smeared onto her off-white skirt, sticky and glaring.

"Why are you back, you fat woman!" Lila frowned, her tone full of disgust. "You're so fat and ugly, just looking at you ruins my mood for practicing! Where's Teacher Vanessa ? I want Teacher Vanessa with me, I don't want you, you fat mom!"

Clara felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart with an ice pick, a sharp, persistent pain.

daughter, whom she gave birth to after a night of struggling on the operating table at the risk of severe bleeding .

To save Lila's career , she gave up her rising ballet career, underwent hormone therapy, and was forever separated from her slender figure.

But now, this child, whom she risked half her life for, is using the most vicious words to express her disgust at her appearance.

She took a deep breath, suppressing the sob in her throat, and said in a calm, even voice, "This is the house I bought. If you don't want to see me, you can leave."

"How dare you talk to a child like that?" Liam 's voice came from upstairs. He had straightened his clothes, his face still showing lingering lust, but his eyes were full of displeasure as he looked at Clara . "Didn't we agree that you wouldn't come back before Lila finished her piano lesson?"

Clara was stunned.

She bought the house with the prize money from a ballet competition years ago , personally oversaw the renovation, and even raised the initial capital for Liam's business by selling the jewelry left by her mother.

She carried the child for ten months, risking her life to give birth, and she single-handedly took care of all the household chores and meals. But now, she even needs the permission of this father and daughter to go back to her own home.

“Now that you’re back, go make dinner.” Liam ’s gaze swept over her plump figure, his disdain undisguised. “ Vanessa must be tired taking Lila to class, so we need to make something nourishing. You don’t know anything else, so all you can do is run around in the kitchen.”

Clara looked at him and suddenly smiled, her eyes stinging with tears. Seven years ago, she casually mentioned wanting to eat pineapple buns from the south of the city. He drove three hours through the night, braving the heavy rain to buy them, carefully tucking them into his arms, afraid they would get cold or soft. Seven years ago, she twisted her ankle while practicing dance. He stayed by her bedside without leaving her side, feeding her water and food, massaging her to reduce the swelling, and saying, "From now on, I will be your legs."

But now, he feels it's superfluous to even glance at her, treating her only as a nanny who can cook.

The door clicked open, and Vanessa entered, holding her key. Today she wore a white knitted dress with a perfectly low neckline, revealing her delicate collarbones. The hemline barely covered mid-thighs, swaying as she moved, outlining her slender waist and shapely hips. With each breath, the soft rise and fall of her chest swayed in the warm yellow light, like a silent allure.

Lila immediately threw herself into her arms, nuzzling her neck with her nose: " Vanessa smells so good! Lila loves Vanessa the most! Daddy loves Vanessa too , right? Would you like Vanessa to be Lila 's mom? She's much better than this fat woman!"

Vanessa smiled gently, looked up at Liam with a hint of shyness in her eyes, then squatted down and gently pinched Lila 's cheek: " Lila, don't talk nonsense,Clara is still here. We should go practice the piano, or we'll fall behind."

As she crouched down, her neckline slipped slightly, revealing a glimpse of her skin. Liam 's gaze lingered on her, his Adam's apple bobbing involuntarily, and his breathing becoming heavier.

Clara stood there, staring at the jarring scene before her, feeling a chill run through her body. Ever since Vanessa came to teach Lila to play the piano, this family had completely changed.

Lila kept insisting on changing her mother, and Liam 's attitude towards Vanessa became increasingly ambiguous. He gave her expensive jewelry, drove her to and from work, and even, at her urging, actually got a divorce certificate with her.

He said he was just trying to appease Lila , and once the child calmed down, he would withdraw the divorce application.

Vanessa led Lila toward the piano room. As she passed Clara , she deliberately slowed her pace and said softly, "Clara, don't be too sad. Women should pay attention to their figure. Mr. Huo actually likes slender girls. I've been practicing yoga recently. If you don't mind, I can teach you a few shaping poses."

Her voice was gentle, but her tone carried a condescending sense of superiority, like a fine needle piercing Clara's most painful spot.

Liam was about to follow when Clara grabbed his sleeve.

"What is it?" He turned around impatiently, his gaze still lingering on Vanessa 's retreating figure.

Clara 's fingertips trembled slightly, her voice carrying a final glimmer of hope: "Are you free on the 10th?"

The 10th was the last day of the cooling-off period for divorce. If he went to the Civil Affairs Bureau that day to withdraw his application, they could go back to the way things were. A faint flame still lingered in her heart, hoping he would remember their past affection and turn back to her.

Liam frowned and replied dismissively, "I don't know, I've been very busy lately. Vanessa said there's an art exhibition downtown, and I have to go with her that day. What's up?"

Clara abruptly released her grip, and the flames were completely extinguished.

It turned out he wasn't busy; he was just too busy to pay attention to her, too busy to remember this day that was so important to their marriage. Watching his hurried departure, a bitter feeling welled up in her throat, and she couldn't utter a single word.

Back in her room, Clara locked the door and pulled a dusty box from the bottom of the wardrobe.

She opened the box, and inside was her old ballet dress. The pristine white tulle was still brand new, though she could no longer wear it. Beside it lay her international ballet gold medal trophy and a pair of ballet shoes with worn-out toes. She picked up the shoes, her fingertips tracing the patterns on them, remembering herself spinning and leaping on stage back then, and tears finally streamed down her face.

She took out her phone and dialed a number she hadn't heard from in a long time.

"Hello, it's me, Clara ."

A burst of ecstatic cheers came from the other end of the phone: " Clara ! You finally contacted me! I thought you were going to be stuck in that house for the rest of your life! You should have done this a long time ago. You're a natural ballerina, a top star who should have risen again long ago! When are you coming back to Paris? The company still has a place for you!"

Clara sniffed, her voice soft but with unprecedented determination: "We'll be leaving in seven days. But I need to go to Germany first for surgery, and then I'll rejoin the team."

"Okay! We'll wait for your news!"

After hanging up the phone, Clara began packing. She carefully placed her old trophies and dance shoes into her suitcase, then threw away all the loose, oversized clothes in her closet. For seven years, she had given up her dreams for her family, sacrificed herself for her children, only to be met with disdain and betrayal in return. Now, she was going to live for herself.

Halfway through tidying up, there was a knock on the door, and Liam walked in. He saw the trophy in the box, paused for a moment, and asked in confusion, "What's this? When did you get something like this?"

Clara looked at him and suddenly felt incredibly ironic. He had actually forgotten that this was her proudest achievement, something he had once held dear and flaunted to everyone. She didn't answer, only saying lightly, "Nothing, just some useless old stuff."

Liam didn't ask any more questions. His gaze fell on her packed luggage, and he frowned: "Where are you going?"

" Just tidying up some old things that I don't need anymore ," Clara said calmly .

"Liam, come here for a second... " Vanessa's voice called from outside. Liam didn't ask me again, turned around and went out the door.

I watched Liam 's departing figure and gave a self-deprecating smile.

The door was gently pushed open, and Lila tiptoed in, carrying a glass of milk.

“It was wrong of you to disturb my piano practice today.” Lila raised her chin slightly, her tone carrying an arrogance beyond her years, much like how Liam spoke to her. “Drink this, and I will forgive you.”

She turned her head and handed over the milk, but deliberately avoided looking at Clara's face, as if looking at her for even a second would offend her eyes.

Clara's fingers tightened slightly as she gripped her phone, a bitter feeling rising in her heart.

She remembered that when Lila was three years old, she would run over with milk in the same way, only then the child would softly call "Mommy feed me," rest her chin on her knees, stare into her eyes and say "Mommy is the prettiest."

But now, the little dumpling who used to cling to her has become the one who hates her the most.

She wanted to refuse, but then she thought of her three-year-old daughter and that this might be the last time she would drink milk poured by her daughter, so she eventually took the cup.

The milk was slightly cool to the taste, with a strange, cloying sweetness. Clara frowned, but still forced herself to drink it down.

She thought that even if it was the last time, she wanted to preserve some of the warmth between mother and daughter.

That night, Clara was trapped in a hazy, half-awake state.

The bedroom door wasn't closed properly, and Liam's voice, mixed with suggestive breathing, drifted in, clear as if right next to his ear: "That waist... it's so damn thin... Teacher Vanessa, you're even more alluring than when she wore a dance dress back in the day..." This was followed by the rhythmic rustling of fabric and Vanessa's soft, sweet laughter: "Mr. Liam, be gentle... Lila's still in the next room..."

Clara spent a chaotic night, unsure whether it was a dream or reality. Her heart felt like it had been struck by a heavy hammer, the pain almost suffocating her.

She vaguely remembered that seven years ago, Liam had whispered the same thing in her ear, saying that her waist when she danced Swan Lake was "God's masterpiece" and that he would give her the best things in the world.

But now, his sweet words are given to someone else, his tenderness to someone else, and even the desire he once showed only to her has become a knife stabbing her.

The next afternoon, Clara was woken up by her cell phone ringing.

A strong wave of dizziness washed over her. She propped herself up on the headboard, her head feeling heavy as if it were filled with lead. She raised her hand to touch her forehead, and the burning heat made her heart clench.

I turned on my phone, and the screen showed 3 PM.

Married for seven years, she has been getting up at six o'clock every day to make breakfast in order to take care of Lila, and has never slept for so long. Even when her wound became infected after giving birth to Lila, she forced herself to get up and breastfeed the baby. Now she is sleeping so soundly, which is unusual and makes people uneasy.

"Awake?" Liam's voice came from the other end of the phone, with Vanessa's laughter and Lila's chatter in the background. "You said you were tired last night, so I didn't wake you and let you sleep a little longer." His tone was perfunctory concern, as if he were talking to an unimportant servant.

"I'll go to the kitchen tonight to prepare a few dishes. Lila and I will come back to eat, and Vanessa will also be there."

Clara rubbed her throbbing temples, her voice hoarse: "I don't remember having a piano lesson today, why did she come?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, followed by Vanessa's sweet voice: "Mr. Liam, Lila said she wants to play hide-and-seek with us. If Clara isn't happy about it, I won't go..." The grievance in her voice was like a fine needle, precisely stirring up Liam's emotions.

Liam's patience ran out instantly, and her tone became impatient: "Just prepare when I tell you to, why all this nonsense? Lila wants Vanessa to come, can't you, as her mother, just go along with her? We'll talk about the rest when we get home."

Before Clara could utter another word, the phone was abruptly hung up. The busy tone rang, as if mocking her unrequited love. Clara slowly got up and walked to the mirror—the woman in the mirror had a puffy face, dark circles under her eyes, and loose loungewear clung to her body like a thick layer of cotton. She raised her hand and pinched her arm; it was all soft fat, and the firm muscle lines she used to have when she was a dancer were nowhere to be found.

"Let's just consider this one last meal for them before I leave." Clara sighed at her reflection in the mirror, her fingertips tracing the water stains on the surface, as if caressing the shattered past.

As evening fell, the front door opened. Liam led Lila in, Vanessa linked arms with him, and the three of them walked in, chatting and laughing. Vanessa held a drawing in her hand, a "family portrait" drawn by Lila—it included her father, Vanessa, and herself in a princess dress, but Clara was nowhere to be seen. Liam took the drawing, smiled, and ruffled Lila's hair: "Our Lila drew so well, even better than her kindergarten teacher."

The scene was too jarring. Clara stood in the kitchen doorway, feeling like an intruder. The table was already set with dishes: spicy chicken, boiled fish, and Mapo tofu—all the spicy dishes that Liam and Lila loved. Over the years, to cater to their tastes, Clara had forced herself to transform from a girl from Jiangnan who couldn't eat spicy food into someone who couldn't live without chili peppers at every meal. Stomach medicine was always kept in the table drawer, but they had never asked her, "Does your stomach still hurt?"

"Wow! It smells so good!" Lila sniffed exaggeratedly, and before everyone could sit down, she eagerly picked up her chopsticks and grabbed a piece of spicy chicken.

Vanessa suddenly teared up, covered her mouth, and coughed softly, her chopsticks hovering in mid-air, unwilling to move. Liam immediately put down his cup and anxiously felt her forehead: "What's wrong? Did you choke on the chili?"

“I…I’m currently controlling my sugar and oil intake, so I can’t eat anything too oily or spicy…” Vanessa’s voice trembled with tears, which streamed down her face like a broken string of pearls. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t explain things clearly to Aunt Su beforehand, and she did all that work for nothing…”

Liam's gaze instantly turned cold as he glared at Clara: "Clara, didn't I tell you that Vanessa needs to maintain her figure? I asked you to cook healthier dishes, can't you understand human language? So many chili peppers, are you trying to kill her?"

Lila's face fell, and she slammed her chopsticks on the table, yelling at Clara, "Teacher Vanessa doesn't eat spicy food! Why did you make so many spicy dishes? You bad woman!" She pointed to the kitchen and ordered imperiously, "Teacher Vanessa loves seafood, go and make it for her again! Steamed shrimp, garlic scallops, and cream of mushroom soup!"

Clara stood rooted to the spot, her body ice-cold. Liam and Lila both knew she was allergic to seafood—three years ago, she accidentally ate a shrimp, her throat swelled up instantly, and she nearly choked. Liam had even frowned and said, "How could you be so careless?" But now, they had completely forgotten. She remembered how she hadn't touched spicy or greasy food for three years to practice dancing, and now she was sacrificing herself for them, only to receive nothing in return, not even a simple "Remember you can't eat spicy food."

“This is too much trouble for Clara…” Vanessa tugged at Liam’s sleeve feigning concern, but a smug smile lurked in her eyes. “Actually, I’ll just have some plain porridge…”

"No!" Lila interrupted her, slamming her little hand on the table. "Teacher Vanessa can't eat this awful stuff! That fat bastard does nothing all day, not even a proper meal. What else can she possibly do!"

The words "fat bastard" hit Clara like a hammer blow, making her vision blur. She trembled with rage, grabbed the chopsticks from the table, and slammed them to the floor: "Why should I redo it? I've had enough of this!"

The chopsticks fell to the floor with a crisp sound. Liam's face darkened. He stood up and walked over to her, his tone authoritative and leaving no room for argument: "Clara, can't you be a little more sensible? Lila is still young, and Vanessa is a guest. How can you be less reasonable than a child?"

With Liam backing her up, Lila seemed to have been set ablaze. She rushed to the dining table, her little hands sweeping haphazardly across the plates—with a "crash," the entire table of food was swept to the floor. Red chili oil splattered onto Clara's arm, the scalding heat sending a burning sensation through her. She instinctively pulled her hand away, only to see Liam immediately shield Vanessa behind him, as if afraid the oil would splash onto her.

"Your cooking is awful! And you won't let Teacher Vanessa eat! You bad woman!" Lila shouted, jumping up and down, her little face full of disgust. "I put sleeping pills in your milk! That way Teacher Vanessa can go to kindergarten and be my mom! All the classmates say Teacher Vanessa is beautiful and gentle, she's like my mom! Unlike you, you only deserve to be an ugly, fat maid at home!"